Dreamless Nights
by Sora'ismybitch
Summary: Seven months, three days and twelve hours since the final battle. The doctor in charge of her file had long lost hope and had no qualms in telling her family and friends what her professional opinion was. According to her, Hermione would never wake up.
1. Chapter I

**A/N; First of all I want to thank all the followers/reviewers for reading this. I have been away for far too long but I am returning to finish this story. I am tweaking the chapters a little bit so bear with me! Thank you all for reading! I love you all xx**

* * *

**DREAMLESS NIGHTS**

**CHAPTER**

**I**

* * *

Seven months, three days and twelve hours since the final battle and the brown-haired girl lying in the hospital bed showed no signs of waking up. The doctor in charge of her file had long lost hope and had no qualms in telling her family and friends what her professional opinion was. According to her, Hermione Granger would never wake up.

Flowers were brought every day. The red curtains were open every morning to let the early sun brighten up the room and the bed's occupant. Sometimes Harry would read for her. Sometimes Ron would tell her how much he loved her and that he would wait for her forever. However, his heart ached when he thought back to the new girl he met just a month ago. It was a promise he knew he wouldn't be able to keep.

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for your friend, Mister Potter." The blond-haired woman, the head-chief of St. Mungus Hospital said with her screechy annoying voice, "It is time to come to your senses. She will never wake up."

Miss Riordan had always been the kind of person that spoke the truth no matter what. She believed that hope was something that should not be given to others where there was none. Years of experience taught her to be distant and cold and she displayed the same coldness directly to the patient's family and friends.

Harry Potter's green eyes looked at the sleeping girl as he listened to the head-chief's words. Hermione wouldn't have wanted _this._ She would have hated the flowers; she would have hated the fact that they kept coming back every day when there was no hope. More importantly, she would have wanted them to move on without her.

With a long suffered sigh, he nodded and moved closer to Hermione's unconscious figure. He moved a few strands of wild brown hair away from her face and then bent down, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Good bye, 'Mione." His voice was strained as if he had mustered all the courage within his soul to speak those simple words.

* * *

_"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried a few simple spells myself and they've all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, it's the best school of witchcraft there is I've heard - I've learned all the course books by heart of course. I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"_

_._

* * *

He looked away immediately as he didn't want to lose his strength at the very end. Swallowing hard, he contemplated the old woman standing by the door with an annoyed expression as if she had much more important things to take care of.

"You'll need her parent's permission."

Miss Riordan rolled her eyes, "Of course boy. Who do you take me for?" she replied with a snort before adding, "Her parents have already signed the permission," noticing his confused expression, she kindly elaborated, "last week."

Harry nodded dumbly, "Right." He muttered quietly, "I guess we'll be back to take her…" he didn't have it in him to actually say the words. The cemetery arrangements had been prepared by the Grangers and they had chosen a muggle cemetery close to their home.

She returned Harry's nod and watched him walk past her, not looking back once as he wandered through the long empty corridor. "Brave kid." She whispered as she turned to look at her patient. Sighing, she closed the door and she too walked away from Hermione's room.

* * *

_"Harry-you're a great wizard, you know."_

_"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let him go._

_"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things-friendship and bravery and-oh Harry-be careful!"_

_._

* * *

The potion had been prepared especially for her. In a matter of seconds, the drinker's breathing would slow down until her heart beat finally ceased. No one had wanted to be present when it was administrated which only made Miss Riordan's work all the more easy. She didn't like the loud crying and the desperate cries of the patient's family when they _finally_ realized that they wanted more time.

More time to hold hands, to speak words which would never be heard by the patient but would certainly make them feel better. Shaking her head in disapproval she opened the door to Hermione Granger's room, taking in her hand the green potion that she had prepared the previous night.

"Now dear, let's finally set you free." She spoke softly as she stared at the young girl. "Such a young beautiful woman." She added sadly as she lifted the brown-haired girl with a simple spell, positioning her into a sitting position. She gently leaned the flask against Hermione's dry lips and watched as the green liquid made its way in.

She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she began to pour the liquid into the young girl's mouth. Once the flask was completely empty, she laid Hermione back down, her eyes softening up as the girl's breath was now almost non-existing. "May you find peace-"

Squealing, Miss Riordan jumped startled when a wide awake Hermione sat up straight in bed, coughing violently. The blond-haired woman's skin prickled and a cold sensation licked her spin up and down when Hermione's scream echoed through the entire hospital.

It was a desperate scream, one that she would never forget for the rest of her life – nor the name that the girl called in horror.

_Salazar._

* * *

She sat quietly in bed; her hands were set on her lap, her fingers clenched tightly to the white hospital sheets as the voices seemed to grow louder and louder. The dark rings around her eyes were becoming more noticeable as days went by. Her once bushy-brown hair was losing its strength; her weakened nails cracked and broke when she increased the grip on the sheets. Ronald's voice was too loud and as usual his stupid-self was not aware of other people's feelings – _her feelings._

"She's not right in the head! She's absolutely mad, Harry! You can't honestly believe her! She must have hit her head or something!" Ron shouted; his cheeks were red and his eyes looked straightly at his best-friend who looked as if he had been through the final battle all over again.

Harry's emerald eyes made their way back to Ron's, "She believes in what she says…" he paused and swallowed hard, "She's our _friend_!"

Ron could not believe it. He shook his head in utter disappointment, his eyes reflected just how broken-hearted he felt at the slight betrayal, "I know she's our friend, Harry." He said with a strange softness that didn't fit him in the slightest, "However, just 'cause she's our friend… it doesn't mean we have to believe in _it_." He stomped his foot on the white floor, "No! Harry listen, even the medics said that her brain hasn't yet fully recovered from the coma!"

A long sigh escaped Harry's lips as he considered Ron's words. He knew very well what the medic's opinions were – Hermione was still suffering from the effects of the strange curse she had been hit with. But he had looked straight into her eyes when she told him about _them._ She truly believed that she was not mad; that everything hadn't been just a crazy coma dream. She had met them, she said.

**"****I'm not crazy, Harry. I met them… they're my friends. You believe in me, don't you?"**

His chest was suddenly swollen with guild as he hadn't managed to say a single word to her back then. He was speechless back then; he could have at least lied. _Yes, Hermione I believe in you._ But he said nothing, not even when tears sprung to her eyes. He remembered too well how she whispered the _man's_ name when she curled up, turning her back on him.

"It's enough Ron. Let's not talk about this anymore." He said and moved a hand to her room's door. A cold shiver ran up and down his spine when he opened the door to find the room empty of its occupant, "Hermione?" he asked, listening to the echo of his trembling voice.

"Bollocks!" Ron said as he quickly dashed inside the room, he hurried towards the open window and his brows furrowed with concern, "She wouldn't…" he said to himself as he gazed into the darkness of the night. They were on the fourth floor; surely she couldn't have climbed down in her weakened state. Then something in the back of his brain clicked as he turned around to face a worried Harry, "How did she get enough strength to apparate?"

Harry shook and quickly exited the room having Ron hurry after him, "I think I know where she went."

Ron said nothing as he followed his friend. Guilt came crashing down upon him once again – as it always did whenever he thought about Hermione. It was his fault.

_"__They're too many!" a tall blond-haired Ravenclaw said as she struggled to deflect another spell thrown at her, "We need to push them back to the east!"_

_Ron groaned as his entire body ached and he no longer could hear what was being said around him, staying in automatic mode. He would cast protection shields, one after the other and every now and then threw some spells of his own; his eyes glued on the enemy but at the same time tried to keep check of Hermione's whereabouts to see how she was faring._

_"__HERMIONE!" His sister's voice called out, chilling him to the bone. He turned around, feeling like he was trapped in a slow motion muggle movie as he watched Hermione stumble back, a silent 'oh' escaping from her lips as she fell down, unconscious. _

* * *

No one believed in her. She could see it in their eyes; the way they thought she was beyond help. She noticed their pitiful looks and it killed her. It killed her knowing that her best-friends did not trust her when she needed them the most. She wished that she was as crazy as everyone labeled her – but she wasn't! She knew that she wasn't. She knew that everything that she went through was real; _they_ were real. _He_ was real!

She shivered as she walked barefoot through the white cold snow. She clung onto her wand as Hogsmeade surroundings suddenly looked very different to her, almost unknown. After a while she came to an abrupt stop, her teary eyes stopped on the omnipotent castle – her home. It was her home alright. But right now it was an empty home because they weren't there.

"Hermione?" a shocked strong voice brought the shivering girl abruptly back to reality. She spun around, wand ready in hand, her gaze stopping on the familiar giant man. She did not relax immediately, her gaze questioning him.

Hagrid looked completely blown away by the image of the skinny young woman dressed in nothing but a white tunic, her skin almost blue due to the cold. Her lips were dry and there was a subtle purplish colour to them, "Bloody hell, let's get ye' in the castle." He said as he suddenly took a step forward.

Immediately Hermione lowered her wand as he mentioned the castle. She looked up at Hagrid and allowed a small and uncharacteristic smile escape, "I missed you Hagrid."

The giant man was completely caught off guard, his cheeks turned slightly pink whether at such heartfelt comment or the incredibly cold weather, "Thou' ye'd still be at t'hospital." He said quietly, frowning slightly as he suddenly noticed her bare feet.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I felt like leaving earlier than expected." She replied, watching as Hagrid undid the protection spells. Once the invisible barrier was off, Hermione let out a loud grunt as she lunged forward, running towards the main entrance. The school… the castle… was her only chance to ever go back. She had no idea how but she hoped it would listen to her pleas.

The young witch whispered a stronger warmth spell and she sighed in relief as it washed over her freezing body, giving her more strength to carry on. She could hear Hagrid call out her name but she did not stop. In fact it only made her run faster. There was a frantic look on her face as she ran through the familiar hallways, thankful that every student was in bed by now. She knew she had to hurry before Hagrid came out with reinforces.

She sped up, feeling her heartbeat climb all the way through her throat as she yanked the girl's bathroom door wide open. A violent shiver took over her still unhealthy body as she stared at what was once the entrance to the chamber of secrets. She shook as she could tell there was a really strong magic surrounding it, blocking any entrance to Salazar's chamber. A loud sob made its way out as she didn't have enough strength to undo it. She shook and leaned against the cold stone; her fingertips softly caressed its surface.

"P-please… please…" she whispered, her voice strangled with pain, "Please, j-just one last t-time…"

She didn't know how long she stayed there but it felt like an eternity to her. She shook as her eyelids became heavier by the second. Once her eyes were closed, darkness took over her and not even the loud bang of the bathroom's door closing woke the bushy-haired girl.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

Hermione Granger woke up with a very painful headache, it felt even worse than that one time Ginny and she drank firewhisky until they passed out. With a slight groan, she attempted to take a good look at her surroundings. She struggled to sit up, having the faintest feeling that she should be somewhere else than lying on a very uncomfortable bed. Suddenly, flashes of a vicious battle came back to her like a painful slap in the face.

"Harry!" she exclaimed loudly, panicking when she looked around for her missing wand. Was it over? Did they win? Was everyone okay? She asked herself those and another millions of questions as she stood up abruptly.

A loud noise suddenly startled her when the sound of a door closing interrupted her panic state. "You're awake." The man spoke in a strange English accent. She frowned, her brown eyes staring at the image of a man dressed in the strangest clothes. She had seen the attire in her early history schoolbooks; the dark shoulder guards, the medieval armor plate, the long red-hair caught in a messy ponytail and the face-paint tattoo made her forget how to breathe as she took in the man's appearance.

"W-who are you?" she asked as she found her voice, frowning as the man took the armor plate off, revealing a rather strong naked well-defined chest. Her eyes stopped on the red covered bandage around his waist.

The man didn't spare her a look as he reached for a large trunk. He hissed something that she failed to understand but she watched in awe as the small snake that served as a locker crawled upwards, allowing him access to it. She shook as she felt that something was quite off around here, maybe she was dreaming that she was in the middle of some movie set. But then, as the man turned to look back at her, he carried something very precious to her in those big and robust hands of his – her wand.

"I believe the question is – who the hell are you?" he asked sending her a cold calculating look, wondering exactly that. He and his men had been out for _hunting_ when suddenly they stumbled across her unconscious figure in the middle of the forest.

She swallowed dry, "I'm… well that is mine!" she exclaimed suddenly, not sure if it was wise to tell this man who she was.

He nodded and arched a suspicious brow, "Yes. I am well aware of it."

It suddenly came across Hermione how deep the man's voice was. He was quite taller than her; she almost reached his shoulders. "Well, then please give it back." She said quickly, sounding a bit anxious that a complete stranger held her only mean of protection in his hands.

"I don't think so. Not until we return to Hogwarts." He said simply as he took a seat on the uncomfortable bed, "Now. Maybe we can try again. Who are you, woman?"

She shook as a cold shiver ran up and down her spine, "No…no. I was… I was fighting! Ron was right there! He was…" she suddenly made her way out of the strange tent, her eyes widening as she saw the men gathered around the campfire, laughing. The sound of a horse startled her and she watched in horror as one man seemed to be taking caring of not one but several horses, waving his wand as he enchanted them. All of their clothes were also medieval-looking and they looked filthy and just as scary as the man back inside.

"Hey Slytherin! Aren't you going to introduce us to the gal?" one of the men asked, laughing loudly, showing off his lack of teeth.

Hermione shook as she felt her world crumble down, her head repeating the name over and over again. She quickly turned around, gasping as Slytherin's big hands rested on her shoulders, "Get back inside." He commanded as he stared emotionlessly at the drunken men.

She instantly moved back inside, a frown deep on her features. Focus, Hermione! She began pacing around, completely ignoring the man. Who the hell was capable of such spell? She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. No, it had to be an accident. If the death eaters had been aware of such spell then Lord Voldemort would have taken advantage of it. Shit. Shit. _Shit_! How was she going to get home? She was panicking again.

"Get a hold of yourself, Hermione." She muttered. First things first, she needed answers. Slowly, she looked around her; her gaze stopped on the tall man who was looking back at her.

"Are ye' done?" he asked, his strong voice snapping her back to her present situation. She, a muggle-born was alone in a tent with _the _Salazar Slytherin.

Thinking quickly, she raised her head like she had seen Parkinson do so many times. She put on an air of superiority and snorted as if the man in front of her had no business to even speak a single word in her presence. "I'm Hermione… Adair." She thanked Merlin she paid enough attention at History of magic. The Adair family had been a small but pure-blooded family that had been eradicated in the first goblin war.

Slytherin said nothing as he looked at the young woman. He didn't know whether he should punish her for her cheek or not. The Adair family, he knew the damned inbreeds well. Unless they were having a change of a heart, there was no way that one of their children would come out dark-haired. Every single one of them was blonds – their hair, a disgusting pale yellow.

"Well Miss Adair, enlighten me then. Why are you so far away from home?" There was a small sneer plastered on his tanned face as he held her wand. He noticed the way she fidgeted as he continued to stroke the piece of delicate wood. He was making her highly uncomfortable – scared even. Good, it was all as it should be.

He knew. Somehow, she knew that he was aware of her lie. Why was he playing along? She swallowed dry as he began playing with her wand. "I… I g-got lost." She stuttered and backed away as she saw the knowing glint in his eyes. For a moment, she found herself still as if his gaze was forbidding her from moving.

In a quick movement, he was right before her staring down at her, a look that she had seen on a documentary about lions once. It was the way they looked at their prey before they were ready to pounce.

"Yes, that is quite unfortunate. Lucky that we found ya sprawled in the woods," He whispered softly against her ear, "Such a nasty curse too." He backed away and was positively reveling on her fear.

Hermione said nothing and quickly looked away from him. Stupid! How could she be so damn stupid! He was Salazar Slytherin for Merlin's sake! She couldn't afford having him take a peek into her memories. She had no doubt that he of all people would be an excellent legilimens.

"Ye' will be sleeping here so I can keep an eye on you." He said simply. To anybody else, those would have sounded as comforting words but to Hermione, they were all but comforting.

"And tarnish my reputation?" she replied immediately, feeling proud of herself for her quick thinking. Surely, he would not think of staining a pure-blooded young girl reputation by staying in the same tent? Now, she only needed to find a way to her wand and get the hell away from Salazar Slytherin. She glanced back at the man and frowned as he paid her no mind, he was sitting on the bed, slowly removing his boots.

_Well fuck._

"If I leave you by yourself you would find yourself in a much more despicable situation." He spoke in a serious tone, his back turned on her. "Those men outside would not hesitate in taking you."

"Not if I had my wand with me." She had been hopeful that her voice would come out intact but to her dismay it only displayed how much his words affected her. This was Salazar Slytherin. The men outside were probably more experienced with magic that she ever hoped to be. Old magic was something that most scientists had tried to grasp and understand but all of them had failed miserably so far.

She found herself blushing as he looked over his shoulder and gave her a mocking smile. Then without a word he lied down on the bed and closed his eyes, his arms crossed behind his head. She didn't miss how he purposely left enough space for her to lie down. Gulping, she considered her options.

She had no way to escape, not really. One, he had her wand in his possession. Two, she had no idea whatsoever of her whereabouts. Three, apparently Salazar Slytherin's buddies were a bunch of drunkards and rapists. Shivering, she climbed on the bed and quickly turned her back on the red-haired man. Her eyes were wide-open; she was ready to bolt out of the bed just in case.

Minutes later, she was startled with the sound of soft snoring. She fought the urge to stand up and look for her wand. Sighing deeply, she curled up. No one could help her now. Lip trembling, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to succumb to the dream world.

* * *

She woke at the sound of screams. She sat up startled, instantly feeling disoriented. Last thing she remembered was being at Hogwarts fighting off death eaters. A cold shiver ran through her as the image of a tall red-haired man with strange paintings-tattooed on his face came to her. So it hadn't been a dream. Swallowing hard, she quickly looked around, finding herself alone in his tent. Hermione felt trepidation crawl into her skin as she heard the loud noise of horses, metal clashing and then loud voices.

Her heart was thumping loudly against her chest. What to do? What to do! She could only guess that some kind of battle was taking place outside. Just her luck! The bastard left her all alone, unprotected and without a wand! So _Slytherin_ of him!

Suddenly, the tent shook violently forcing her to jump off the bed. She couldn't stay here! She needed to run! Hermione looked around for something and found a knife at the small round table. She held it tightly and began coughing. She snapped her head and watched as flames surrounded the tent cloth, they were burning fast which indicated that the fire had been a product of a spell. She made a run for it.

As she got outside, her eyes widened in sheer horror as she stared down at the garden of corpses stretched on for miles, a sea of lifeless eyes. She clutched her hand to her mouth and awkwardly walked through the dead. She halted, bent over and threw up.

Tears welled up but she fought them back. This was not the time to get emotional. She needed to get out of here and fast. She swallowed the taste of her vomit and took a deep breath. As she kept walking, she noticed that she was being followed. The idiot was not aware that she was able to see his shadow. Summoning all of her courage, she turned around, "Don't! Don't come any closer!" she warned.

Her courage faltered when she spotted the barbaric weapon the dark-skinned man was carrying. The mace was stained with blood. She also noticed that the man looked nothing like the ones she had seen with Slytherin last night, which meant that he probably considered her an enemy.

It was like a staring contest. She could not look away from his dark eyes. They were like a deep void and they were daring her. "You will not win this fight with a knife." He spat loudly and then smirked. Hermione did not even register his words, her eyes followed as he swung his mace in her direction. It was funny, the way it cut into the wind. The swooshing noise suddenly reminded her of the movies she used to watch with her father. _It's okay._ It's okay to just let go right? She was so tired too. She fought in the war, fought dangerous death eaters. She didn't even know if there was a home to go back to. Had they won?

She finally closed her eyes and waited and waited but the blow never came. She then heard a loud thump and slowly allowed herself to open her eyes. She stared at the man now in front of her; wild long red-hair had escaped from its messy ponytail. His face was covered with dirt and blood. In his hand was a white woodened wand.

Salazar Slytherin had just saved her life. She was supposed to feel relieved but instead panic rushed through her. She didn't know what or how to feel.

"T-thank you."

He said nothing and approached her. He stood right before her and cupped her chin quite harshly, forcing her to look up. "You are forever in my debt, woman."

She yanked his hand away and glared at him and before she could retort they were interrupted.

"Ah she lives!" an amused voice shouted from behind Hermione. She slowly turned around to find the same group of men that she had seen last night. She counted them; six of them in total.

She said nothing as she registered it. Six men had been responsible for this mass murder?

Salazar reached a rough hand to her shoulder and forced her to walk along, "We're heading back. Godric will be upset if we are delayed."

A blond man grinned as Salazar mentioned Godric's name. "Think he will allow me to be in the tournament?" he asked excitedly.

Hermione's skin prickled as they mentioned Godric. Godric Gryffindor. She felt something within her stir with a great amount of excitement. She looked up at Salazar and watched as he smiled back at the man in response.

It took her breath away.

* * *

**"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall echoed loudly through the hallways. She looked over her shoulder, glaring as she saw some students out of bed. "For Merlin's sake, Theodore!" she started furiously at one of the prefects, "Take the students back to bed!"**

**She then faced the closed door; her eyes stuck on the strange 'S' shaped lock. "Hagrid."**

**The giant man straightened up at once, "Yes Professor?"**

**"Bring me Mr. Potter at once."**


	3. Chapter III

**Harry Potter's eyes stopped on the lock. He looked around nervously as the professors looked at him expectantly, as if he held all the answers. "It won't open." He told them, feeling his throat dry up. Hermione was on the other side and she needed him.**

**Ron pushed Harry out of the way in a quite rough manner, "Here, let me try." he opened his mouth and attempted to speak parseltongue. His blue eyes glared at the damned lock. It had worked months ago when he and Hermione sneaked to the chamber of secrets to destroy one of the horcruxes. So why wasn't it working now?**

**"Mr. Weasely!" McGonagall exclaimed, shocked as the red-headed boy began blasting spell after spell. Harry held Ron and managed to drag him backwards, away from the door, "You will control yourself!" she turned her back on the boys and faced the 'S' shaped lock. She reached her fingers towards it and she was suddenly hit with a bolt of powerful magic.**

**She attempted to scream but nothing came out of her mouth. Eyes wide in horror, McGonagall dropped to her knees.**

**"Minerva!" Horace Slughorn came to her aid, "Is it dark magic? Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.**

**"No Horace. It's not… dark magic." She answered quietly, her eyes firmly set on the door, "It's the schools magic. Founder's magic. It's a protective charm. I'm afraid we won't be let in so easily."**

**At that, everyone's heads turned towards the door, each single one of them bared conflicted expressions.**

* * *

Winter had arrived. Hermione saw its touch on the land as they traveled north; the grass was crisp with frost and a chilling shroud of mist hung low over the hills. Her eyes stopped on the grey sky and she knew that it was about to rain again. It came every day now, without fail, always gently insistent. Voices grew louder around her and she tried hard to listen to their conversations but soon enough she would grow bored of them. She also noticed that they had yet to speak a word directly at her. Any question about her, the men would ask Slytherin who in turn would question her about it.

"You do know that I can hear you?" she snapped, glaring at the tall blond-haired man. He seemed to be the oldest of the group; his pale green eyes made her feel uneasy. He was also the only one who did not have any tattoos in sight.

A small smile played on his lips and yet he stared at Slytherin. She was fuming but said nothing. Instead, she kept walking, thinking to herself how lovely they all looked on horses. Bastards!

Salazar's voice startled her, "You may speak to her."

That single order made her realize yet again just how forceful he was. These men accepted his orders unconditionally and there was the manner in which they all seemed to have an unbreakable bond.

"Very well," said the blond-man whose name she had yet to learn. He turned to look at her, "I wish to know your age, my lady." He bowed his head slightly, meaning no disrespect.

Hermione grinned brightly, "I am almost eighteen years old." Her voice seemed rather loud as everyone had grown quiet all of a sudden. She didn't notice it though, "Where are we going?" she asked, trying to ignore just how tired she was.

The man looked surprised at her question. He had heard her question Salazar over and over and he had simply ignored her. Salazar looked over his shoulder and dismounted his horse with an impressive ease, "Come." His green eyes met hers and she hesitantly approached him. She eyed him suspiciously as she stopped close to him. Her suspicion only grew higher when he extended a hand towards her.

The witch blinked and slowly reached her own hand towards his. She shivered at the touch of his rough calluses fingers as he closed his hand gently on hers. With a single push, she went forward, forcing herself to dig her feet into the still wet grass so that she would not bump against him. She was about to tell him to be more careful when his other hand suddenly came to rest on her waist, and then suddenly, her feet no longer found support and she was lifted up onto the horse. Surprised, she released his hand to take over the reins.

"T-thank-" she went still as he got back on the horse, his cold and wet chest firmly pressed against her back. He surrounded her with his long arms and took the reins from her. He grunted something in response and then the horse jogged at full speed.

She noticed that their horse seemed to have a greater start than the others, "Thank you!" she exclaimed loudly to make sure he could hear her. Yet again, no reply ever reached her. Her eye twitched in annoyance. She clenched her teeth hard in order not to comment on his lack of manners. In fact, she leaned back against his chest and got herself quite comfortable. She felt it then, the way his torso stiffened; the way his hands clutched tightly on the reins.

"I am thankful. I really am," she started quietly, her hands going to her hair, attempting to get some of it away from her eyes. In all honesty, she really was thankful that she had been found. So far, he had done nothing to harm her or gave her any indication that he would do so. Besides, he was Salazar Slytherin, one of the most powerful and intelligent wizards of all time. If here was any way to get back home, he or the other founders might know of it.

"Good. Ye' may start with yer' real name."

His voice startled her making her jump slightly. The top of her head hit the right side of his jaw which made him growl at the sudden impact. She closed her eyes tightly and expected him to curse her or yell or worse, throw her from the horse and then run her over. Yet, he quickly regained his posture and held her closer to him.

"What's the matter?" was his mocking reply, his breath hot against her left ear.

She became like a statue, "Nothing!" she replied quickly, blushing bright red.

He smirked and focused ahead, leading the horse towards the muddy road. He was not going to deny that he was curious about the little witch. She was definitely not from around here; he had never seen the attires she was wearing. Besides, she was far too comfortable around men, which told him that she probably held different traditions. It was better to keep her close in case someone else might get the wrong ideas due to her odd behavior.

Hermione stilled a gasp as she watched the small village unfold before her eyes. She felt the horse slow down as they rode into the busy streets, she spotted as many people moved about, busy in their affairs. It was quite dark but she still could spot a small bustle of activity as the merchants seemed to finish closing up their stalls. The air smelled pleasantly of cinnamon and lavender. She found herself smiling as two boys ran by their horse left side; they seemed to look up expectantly.

"Sal!" the tallest boy called out.

Salazar seemed to reach for a small pouch and threw it at him, "Try not to waste everything in one go."

The boys came to a stop to inspect the pouch contents. Hermione looked over her shoulder to watch them break into happy hysterics "What was in it?" She asked as they came to a stop to let a horse-carriage through.

"Gold." He replied simply.

"Oh."

She stared at the carriage as it went past them, deep in thought. Suddenly, the curtains of the carriage's window were pulled aside and she saw a woman look right back at her. Suddenly, the woman's face began to take on a dark shadow, her expression menacing. She looked away and was startled when a man walked past their horse, seemed to have the very same expression stamped on his face. Everywhere she looked, they seemed to leer at her, sneering at her confusion. The crush of people was suddenly too much for her, it was suffocating.

Salazar blinked as the woman suddenly jumped off the horse falling to her knees. People around them seemed to stop to look in confusion. "Are you alright?" one man asked as he attempted to help her up.

Hermione pushed him off her. She needed to get out, to get the hell away from this place. Shoving past a young woman with an armload of flowers, she pushed out of the crowd onto a much emptier street. Eyes half-closed, she rounded a corner and almost ran into an old woman. She whispered an apology and stumbled backwards.

"Hold still."

The order came in the form of a hiss, right next to her ear. A hand was set on the small of her back. She whirled on him; a wild expression on her face. He looked closer, eyes concerned, "What is it?"

"It's getting… darker." She whispered feebly as she felt head spinning.

Frowning, he shook her. Hard. He watched as she struggled to keep herself awake but in the end she fell numb in his arms.

* * *

"You shouldn't have brought her here!"

Salazar's eyes followed the dark-haired man, watching as he paced around the room, his blue eyes filled with worry. He was of course, right. He was always right. However, that did not mean that he should do whatever he wanted him to. It had been a harsh decision, yes. But it was his decision. He remained rather calm, trying his best not to engage into another meaningless fight as they always seemed to, nowadays.

"It is done. We should no longer dwell on it." Salazar replied as he poured more wine into his chalice.

"No longer dwell on it? Gods, Salazar. These are dangerous times we walk on. I understand why you are so fascinated with her but we cannot bring her with us to the castle."

"Why am I so fascinated with her?" Salazar asked, narrowing his eyes at the man in front of him. When no reply came, he stood up and walked closer to the man, "Say it!"

"You know why." The reply came in a gentle tone – the tone he loathed. Godric always used it when he wanted to treat him like a child.

"Because of the dark-magic?" He snorted loudly, "I didn't know of it!" his nostrils flared up as he glared at Godric.

"Don't lie to me." Godric looked back at Salazar, his eyes filled with disappointment, "You have dwelled too far in the dark arts. An expert like you would surely smell the source of it even if it was miles away."

Salazar snorted and smirked, "Ye have always been too good at reading through my lies." His voice sounded taunting, "However, she will be coming with us. I accepted that filth mudbloods ye brought in last year." He paused and raised both hands. He was about to say something else when the servant stepped through the door.

"My lord? Miss Adair is awake."

Godric's head snapped towards the elder woman, "Thank you."

Salazar grinned and took a long sip of his wine, "I win this round Gryffindor." He said as he stalked out of the door.

* * *

Her first thought when she woke was that she had been left behind. Panic rushed through her as she clutched to the older woman, asking over and over for him. Salazar Slytherin. It was quite ironic how she held onto his name, how she desperately wanted to hear his stupid commanding voice or see his emotionless face. He was her key; through him she would gain access to Hogwarts, a step forward to get herself back home.

The woman smiled in response and reassured her that Lord Slytherin was on his way.

"Don't worry lass, he's on his way." She said knowingly, "Get here. We need to change you into proper clothing."

Hermione blinked. She began explaining that she needed the clothes she was wearing. She even tried to assure that if she had a wand, she would cast a cleaning spell but the woman would have none of it. In the end, she had been forced to take her clothes off and soon enough, she found herself wincing as she looked at her reflection on the mirror.

"Stop with the faces. You look marvelous." The servant told her.

Yet, she did not like it. Not one bit. The dress was a perfect shade of champagne with ivory detailed stitching, smooth and slender, wrapped around her frame. Many times, she had imagined herself on one of those dresses she often saw in medieval movies. But now… the thought of it was not appealing. Not one bit. Even though, the dress did not show much skin, she felt naked without her jeans.

She scoffed and then her heart skipped a beat as she stared at him through the mirror. He was standing a few feet from her, looking clean. The dirt and blood was now gone from his features, allowing her to take a better look at him. He was breath-taking.

"Where are your clothes?" he asked as he stepped closer.

She turned around to face him, "She took them away."

He nodded, "Pity. I quite liked them. The dress does not suit you at all."

Hermione felt like she had been slapped. True, she agreed with him with all her heart. But somehow, deep within herself, she had wanted it to please him. She shivered as she acknowledged that disturbing fact. "I know." She said glaring at him.

They stared at each other for a long while until her stomach broke the silence.

Salazar smirked, "I agree. Food would be lovely, would it not?" he mocked her, pretending to talk to her belly.

She shook her head slowly, a smile making its way to her tired features. Salazar Slytherin was an entirely different book. Just when she thought she had his personality written down, he surprised her.

* * *

Memories of that day still plagued his mind. How could he forget it? Their bond had been severed; deeply broken and completely beyond any hopes of repair. Godric Gryffindor looked and felt weary. He didn't sleep much nowadays. The rumours surrounding Salazar and his friends were aggravating him. The dark-haired man sighed deeply and leaned back on the chair, relaxing slightly as his gaze grew distant.

His mind took him back to the haunting memory.

Three children walked carefully through the unlevelled rocks at the river's edge - a red-haired little girl and two boys slightly older. Godric had never felt this excited. The three of them had successfully crossed over the village's boundaries without being seen by any of the stationary guards.

"Tell your sister to stay back," he said feeling a bit uneasy. They had never ventured this close to the water before.

"She knows how to swim!" Salazar told him with a grin. He seemed to be rather proud of his little sister achievement. "You needn't to fear, Gryffindor."

He rolled his eyes, "Still, these rocks are dangerous." He added, trying to reason with his best-friend.

Freyja let out a small giggle as she trailed her fingers across the shining surface, "I'll be fine Godric." She replied, offering him a toothless smile. "Do you reckon we get to see any fish?" she asked loudly, surveying the water with an intense stare.

She brought the boys back to the reason why they had trespassed so far past the village's limit. Godric frowned, "William said that it'd happen today."

Salazar laughed, "The stable boy?" he asked. His tone was a condescending one. "I hear father say how stupid the servants are all the time. Your dear William probably got the wrong day."

Godric took a deep breath, "He said he was sure of it, Salazar." He tried to ignore his friends' offensive words. He liked William – the older boy was his favourite servant. Freyja straightened up and fixed her ponytail, "I'm sure William's not stupid." She told him, smiling in a comforting manner.

Freyja had to be the nicest person he ever met. She was the complete opposite of her brother. Whereas Salazar was suspicious, she trusted too easily. She was kind and always respectful. Salazar was outright rude and spoke his mind, not caring if his words were hurtful or not. However, Godric could understand the many aspects of his friend personality. Salazar had lost his mother at a very early age; his father was not the kindest man. He was cold and distant. After his wife death, he immediately sent Salazar away to Godric's Village. Years after, he remarried and got himself a new child – Freyja.

Salazar came to a sudden stop and looked at Godric. He furrowed his brows and seemed to be trying to listen to something else. Freyja didn't seem to notice how both boys had grown quiet all of a sudden, she kept humming a cheerful tone as she bent down to pick a round pale pebble.

"Quiet." Salazar ordered, his green eyes filled with worry.

At this, the little girl hurried to the boys' side, "What is it?" she whispered, her petite hand searching for her brother's. Salazar took a firm hold of it and looked at Godric, "Muggles." He replied quietly as the voices and footsteps grew louder.

Fear overwhelmed the three of them. Muggles were to be avoided. They always heard the nasty stories from the village folk. Muggles did not see magic with kind eyes. They loathed it. Godric could suddenly feel the weight of his wand pressed against his leg's holster.

Two men stepped out of the vegetation. They were tall, both covered in rags and filth. One of the men had his face covered with ugly scars, which made him look mischievously scary. He smiled once his eyes settled on the children, his teeth were yellow and rotten.

"Now look at this!" the other man spat on the rocks as he too spotted the children. His eyes scanned their clothes, realizing just how immaculate they were, "They look like they're worth something! Don't they, Liam?"

Liam's dark eyes stopped on the red-haired girl and his smile widened, "Our lucky day." He muttered, his long bruised hand moved down towards his belt.

Godric stepped forward; "If it's money you want, we don't have any!" he started, trying to muster all his courage. He didn't want to have Salazar deal with these men or things would take the wrong turn.

"Hear that? The pretty boy has no money."

Liam's eyes never once left the little girl's shaking frame, "Pity. We don't want any money."

Freyja looked away from the men and buried her face into her brother's brown tunic. "I'm scared." She whispered, holding onto him.

Salazar wrapped his arm around her. His expression had changed. His eyes were narrowed with a strange ferocity that Godric had never seen before. "You'd do well to turn around and leave. We don't want to cause any trouble."

Both men raised their hands in a mocking fashion. The scarred man suddenly stepped forward, approaching them in a fast pace.

Godric quickly took a step forward, "Get back!"

A violent push brought him down. Salazar pulled Freyja behind him at the same time his wand slid under his sleeve onto his hand. He clenched his jaw as Freyja held onto him tightly, "Freyja." His voice even at such young age was filled with a powerful authority, "I need you to be brave. I need you-"

"No! Brother, please!"

"Listen! You will run. You will call for help." He then pushed her off him, "Go!"

She jumped startled, tears gathered in her eyes but she nodded nevertheless. He turned back around, missing her as she ran towards the forest. The men were laughing as they watched Salazar point the stick at them. Godric sat up, his eyes wide as Salazar shot the spell. He knew his friend had his ruthless moments but he never thought him capable of such thing.

The unforgivable hit its target. The scarred man fell on the rocks; a tormenting scream erupted into the chilling air. The man's body twisted into uncomfortable positions and he struggled to breathe. Godric's heart sped up as he realized that Salazar had no intentions of letting the spell go.

He stood up, his legs wobbling as he had never witnessed a person under the cruciatus curse before. "Salazar! Salazar, stop it!"

The other man was frozen, his feet glued. He was paralyzed with fear.

Still Salazar showed no signs of paying attention to any of Godric's words. He glared harder, his hatred fuelling the intensity of the spell.

"Salazar, please! Stop it!" Godric pleaded, he moved his hand towards his friend's wand and lowered it. He shook as Salazar's eyes met his.

"Stop it?" Salazar asked in sheer disbelief, his voice hoarse. "You didn't see it Godric. What these men were thinking of doing to my sister." His tone of voice grew darker, "They ought to die for even thinking it!"

Godric swallowed dryly, "You can't kill them. It will tarnish your soul." He tried to reason with him, "It's not worth it. Just let them be, let's get out –"

Salazar pushed him roughly, "You can leave if you want." He waved his wand back at Liam, "Crucio."

The man's scream was louder, the familiar pain hit him hard and he wished he would die instead. His friend moved at last, he glanced apologetically at Liam and turned around, ready to flee.

Yet, this didn't go unnoticed by the red-haired boy. Salazar smirked, with a flick of his wrist he ended the spell and pointed his wand at the running man.

"Avada-"

"Expellia-"

Salazar blocked Godric's spell. He stared back at his friend with a confused expression.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"You can't perform spells on muggles! My father forbids it!" He shouted, his body shook with trepidation. His friend was about to murder a human being. True, these men were scum but that didn't give him the right to end their life.

"Your father!" Salazar exclaimed mockingly, "is a coward."

"Don't you dare!" Godric's brows furrowed, "He took you in when nobody else would!"

Salazar straightened up, "Exactly. He was the one too coward to say no to my father. Everyone else said no. Why did he? He never even looks at me!"

Godric's eyes widened. He knew his friend spoke the truth. He did not know why his parents would not look at Salazar or why they avoided talking to him. Only some of the villagers would treat Salazar as an equal, but all of them were from different clans.

"Salazar-"

"Don't Salazar me! I'm sick of everyone hiding the truth. Trying to shelter me from something, I don't need any sheltering! I'm a Slytherin!" he pointed his wand at Godric.

Spells flew back and forward, both boys ignored the unconscious man and carried on fighting. Salazar would attack and Godric would use defensive spells. However, he soon realised that remaining on the defensive was no more an option. He needed to disarm Salazar.

The fight carried on until both of them were suddenly disarmed at the same time. Salazar and Godric looked around to find themselves surrounded with guards – the bulbous Gryffindor symbol stamped on their armours.

Demetrius Gryffindor walked forth, making his way through his men. His intense blue eyes settled firmly on Salazar who on his turn looked back in a defiant manner. It was almost as if he was screaming, noticing me now?

"Father-"

"Leave us Godric." Demetrius tone left no room for argument.

Godric cast his head down. He began walking away and slowly looked over his shoulder. Salazar looked back at him as if sensing his friends gaze. He smiled that smile friends gave one another when everything was forgotten and forgiven. Because that's how true friendship works, right? No matter how bad the fights were, they'd always find each other, ready to pick up at where they left.

"Look at me boy."

Salazar's gaze snapped back at the man. He raised his chin, giving him a majestically look. He said nothing. He would try and read the man's intention but he knew it was futile when it came to this particular man.

"You used an unforgivable on a muggle." It was not a question so Salazar didn't bother to reply. He didn't bother to apologise either. Demetrius Gryffindor was not an understandable man, "I can no longer watch over you. Surely, you understand why?"

Salazar closed his hands into fists. This was always what this man wanted - what everyone in that damned village wanted.

"I'm not going to my father."

Gryffindor's eyes widened slightly. He relaxed his posture, "You've always been too smart for your own good. No you are not. Your father will be coming to get your sister home. He does not wish you to return with him."

He nodded, missing the pity look on the elder's man face. "All I want is a horse and my wand back."

"Salazar. I cannot let you go on your own. Your uncle will come for you."

"I don't want to be thrown away back and forth again. I want a horse and my wand."

Demetrius stared intently at the boy in front of him. After a long moment of silence he nodded.

"Very well."

No one saw Salazar Slytherin for long nine years.

Godric was taken away from his reverie when Salazar returned to the room. His blue eyes stopped on the young woman by his friend side. Immediately, he stood up.

"My lady." He started and bowed slightly, "I hope you are feeling better."

Hermione looked up at the dark-haired man with evident curiosity. He wasn't one of the men that she had travelled with, "I am." She said nodding, still trying to get used to all the formality, "I thank you for your kind hospitality," she added quickly, her hand softly resting on her stomach, praying it wouldn't tell him too just how hungry she was.

"She's hungry, Godric. Can you get her something to eat?"

The bushy-haired witch looked surprised. It was almost as if she recognized his name. "But of course! I'll have Leadan prepare some food." He said, looking right at her, his curiosity now matching hers.

Godric Gryffindor! For some reason, she didn't feel as excited as she thought she would be when finally meeting him. Godric was just as tall as Salazar was but he seemed weary, concerned. She had always pictured him as an omnipotent force, a man whose presence would awe her. A tingle of disappointment washed through her. Unlike Salazar's eyes, Godric's looked empty – as if a once bright powerful flame had been extinguished.

She smiled politely as their gaze met. Godric nodded and slowly looked away, walking to the door to find the servant. He frowned as he reached the hall. He was sure of it. The look on her face had been one of recognition. He shook his head, it seemed like he would have to clean Salazar's mess once again. For some unexplainable reason, he could tell that she brought trouble to his peaceful life.

Salazar arched a brow, "Sit. Food will come."

Hermione looked back at Salazar; her mind was whirling with so many questions. She sat down and made a face as the dress squeezed her breasts at the motion. Growling, she brought her hands to adjust it so she would be more comfortable. Huffing, she dropped her hands and crossed her arms over her chest. "I really would like my clothes back."

"Whatever for?" he teased her. His lips were curved upwards – he was obviously amused with her lack of manners. Her attitude would make any of the ladies back at the castle cringe. "I prefer to watch you struggle with the dress. It's almost endearing."

She glared and he grinned. Not many dared to glare at him and now that he thought of it, most women did not glare. He took a seat close to hers and leaned on the chair in a comfortable position. "You still have yet to tell me your true name."

"It is not wise that I speak it." She replied, her brain wrecking for a plausible excuse.

He chuckled, "Why not? Is it cursed?" He leaned forward, now closer to her, "Tell you what, if you disclose your real name…" he paused and he smirked when she showed a sudden interest, "I will let you have your wand back."

She looked at him, taking in his words. She tried to figure out why he'd return her wand for her real name. It was not like he had much to gain over that little knowledge, right? Plus, she really needed her wand back. She craved for it, to wrap her hand around it, to feel its familiar magic surround her.

"Alright. The wand first."

"Your name first."

"The wand."

"Your name."

He watched as she struggled to tell him her real name. He was not by any means a stupid person. He knew she was hiding something significantly from him. "Go on woman. Your name first."

"Fine! It's Hermione Granger. Happy? Now give me the wand." She extended her hand forward, expecting him to keep his end of the deal. Her hand shook as he was quiet, his searching gaze set on her. She avoided his eyes, not wanting to have him pry into her mind. A jolt of shock hit her arm as the piece of wood was settled gently on her hand.

"There. It wasn't that hard was it?" He asked quietly. He would not push further into her defenses – for now.

She shook her head in disbelief. He had actually handed the wand back to her. "Thank you."

"Hm." He looked away as Godric came back, two servants behind him with food.


End file.
